


The Fine Art of (Demonic) Diplomacy

by Gramarye



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, 鬼灯の冷徹 | Hoozuki no Reitetsu
Genre: Bureaucracy, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Demons, Gen, Japanese Hell vs. European Hell, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gramarye/pseuds/Gramarye
Summary: In which Sebastian receives a distinguished visitor from the Far East, Hoozuki makes a few polite enquiries about the nature of a certain Faustian contract, and the niceties of international infernal politics are discussed over tea.





	The Fine Art of (Demonic) Diplomacy

**Author's Note:**

> Some time ago, a fail_fandomanon rec request for anime and manga with interesting and grotesque demons led me to recommend the _Hoozuki no Reitetsu_ manga and anime series. And as I was writing out a description of the series (Japanese Buddhist Hell as a satire on modern Japan), I decided that Hoozuki and the titular Sebastian from _Kuroshitsuji_ ( _Black Butler_ ) absolutely needed to have a lovely demonic teatime together, with insane amounts of keigo-rendered-into-English because savage politeness is always a treat to write. Thanks to the delightful encouragement of several commentators, a fic idea started to take shape. Running with the concept of the international infernal bureaucracy, it seemed all too plausible to me that a senior civil servant from Japanese Hell might find a reason to go out in the field to meet with a high-flying operative from a rival foreign agency....
> 
> (In keeping with the period vernacular, the term _Oriental_ is used briefly within to refer to Asian people -- not the done thing today, obviously, but unremarkable at the time.)

'The morning post and telegrams have arrived, my lord.'

Ciel glanced at Sebastian, eyeing the collection of envelopes in his butler's hands, then finished the last bite of his toast and picked up his cup of tea. 'Leave them here,' he said, waving his free hand vaguely in the direction of the bedside table. It was a foul and rainy day, and he had no morning engagements or irksome house guests to occupy his time, so he had no desire to leave the warm comforts of his bed and his breakfast tray to attend to business one minute earlier than he had to. Whatever was in the letters could wait.

As he drained the cup, he heard the rustle of papers close at hand as Sebastian obeyed his order. He was only half paying attention to the movement, more interested in the question of whether he truly wanted another slice of buttered toast, but as he set his cup down he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sebastian still had an envelope in his hands. ' _All_ of them, Sebastian,' he said, on the edge of irritation. 'I'll deal with them in a moment.'

Sebastian did not, however, place the remaining letter with the others. He turned it over carefully, and as he did so Ciel noticed that the envelope had no stamps or postmarks, and no address was written on the outside. Instead, it had a peculiar sort of band wrapped around the middle, made with what appeared to be a number of separate strands of thin, stiffened black and white threads tied in an intricate doubled knot. (For some inexplicable reason, the sight of the threads stirred an unpleasant memory at the back of Ciel's mind, a flickering recollection of black-bordered mourning notepaper and the slow, inky drip of jet-black sealing wax.) Moreover, there was an odd expression on Sebastian's face as he studied the envelope. If Ciel didn't know better, he would have sworn that the demon looked almost _wary_ of what he was seeing. And when Sebastian spoke at last, his voice was quiet, more muted and distant than his usual sleek calm: 

'This one appears to be for me, my lord.'

That got Ciel's immediate attention, driving all thoughts of breakfast from his mind. 'For _you_?' he said, incredulous. 'Who on earth would be sending _you_ a letter?' He sat up a little straighter in bed, trying to get a closer look at it. 

'An individual of my acquaintance,' Sebastian replied, brushing his white-gloved thumb across the knot of the ribbons.

Gritting his teeth at the obviousness of the answer, Ciel craned his neck to get a better sight of the letter itself. Instead of holding it the usual way, with the long side parallel to the floor, Sebastian had turned the letter so that it was vertical in his hands. As Ciel watched, he produced a small paper-knife from some hidden recess in his coat and slit the envelope carefully along the short end at the top, then drew out the folded letter within. When he unfolded it, Ciel caught a glimpse of a column of what looked like Chinese characters -- though a second later Sebastian had turned his body so that all Ciel could see was the blank white back of the page.

'From China?' Ciel said, not to be outmanoeuvred so easily. He might not be able to read what the letter said, but at least he could identify the writing as belonging to a normal human language. With Sebastian, that was not a fact to take for granted.

Sebastian shook his head, though his eyes never left the letter. 'Japan,' he said, as if the correction explained everything.

If the demon wanted him to drag scraps of information out of this conversation by degrees, Ciel was more than willing to play that game. It certainly would be far more interesting than anything else in that stack of tedious correspondence now resting a few feet from his hand. There was also a principle at stake: he hated having secrets waved in front of his nose, taunting him with the very fact of their presence. And he had to admit that the thought of Sebastian having something akin to a private life -- a separate existence beyond their current contract, if that personal letter from a foreigner was any indication -- was a prospect that he had not contemplated to any great extent. He wanted to know more.

'Well then?' he pressed, undaunted. 'What business does this Japanese individual of your acquaintance have with you?' 

Sebastian seemed to be reading the letter over again, if the slight movement of his eyes was any indication. 'He writes to inform me that he will be in England at the end of the month, and that if my duties here permit he would greatly wish to renew our acquaintanceship, if arrangements for doing so can be made in a manner that is most convenient for me.'

Ciel translated that statement into words of one syllable. 'He wants to see you.'

'Yes, my lord.' Sebastian refolded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope. 'It would appear that he does.'

That strangely muted note was back in Sebastian's voice again, and this time it made Ciel pause, his eyes narrowing. So it was indeed a personal letter. And it had come directly to Sebastian at Phantomhive Manor, with no markings to indicate that human hands had touched it at any point between its origin and destination. If Sebastian was treating the letter as a serious piece of business, then whoever (or _what_ ever) had written it was now Ciel's business, too. 

'So he wants to see you,' he repeated, and fixed Sebastian with a flat stare. 'How dangerous is he?'

Sebastian ran his thumb over the knotted ribbons again, tracing the graceful figure-eight whorls with a slow, deliberate touch. 'You would be in no danger from him,' he said, his usual enigmatic smile surfacing on his face like an oily film on a stagnant lake.

'If he's a friend of yours,' Ciel countered dryly, 'I doubt that very much. And you didn't answer my question.'

'I would not call him a friend. We operate in very different circles, one might say.' Sebastian tucked the letter into the interior breast pocket of his tailcoat. 'But as to your lordship's question, I would not consider him a danger to the living. His concern is entirely with the deceased.'

Ciel's expression sharpened. 'A Reaper?'

'No.' Sebastian's smile took on a touch of amusement as he added, 'Though he at least would be on marginally cordial terms with them, unlike myself.'

'So he is Japanese, he deals with the dead, and he wants to talk to you.' Ciel contemplated these facts for a moment, attempting to assemble them into some semblance of a personal profile. 'Does he say why he wants to see you?'

'Not in so many words, my lord,' said Sebastian. 'But he is not the sort to idly renew an acquaintanceship without seeking something from it. I confess that I do not know what he might want from me.'

'I see.' After a further moment of thought, Ciel picked up his teacup and held it out for a refill. 'You may as well invite him over, then.'

Sebastian froze, his hand halfway to the teapot. 'My lord?'

Ciel leaned back against his pillows. 'He clearly knows how to find you at this address, which means that he likely knows who I am and what our relationship entails. I would rather he came here as an invited guest than simply show up without warning and disrupt the entire household.' He waved the teacup gently, a reminder that he was being kept waiting. 'You may say to him that I have given you leave to meet with him here, under this roof, so that you will not be taken away from your service to me.'

During Ciel's explanation, Sebastian had recovered from his brief loss of composure. He took the teacup from Ciel and began to pour a fresh cup. 'You are most generous, my lord,' he said. 'I have no doubt that he will be honoured by the invitation.'

Ciel made a quiet noise of acknowledgement as he held out a hand to accept the tea. He blew on the steaming cup gently, and took a long sip. But over the rim of the teacup, he darted a glance at Sebastian, who had left his bedside and gone to fuss with the draperies on the nearest window. 

_You and I both know that generosity has nothing to do with it, Sebastian._ He smiled around the warm china touching his lips. _All I want is to see exactly who -- or_ what _\-- has you so hot under the collar over a single letter. What sort of a monster are we dealing with here?_

* * *

'Hoozuki-kun, I still don't understand why you're so interested in going all the way to England just to talk with one particular demon.'

Hoozuki paused in the act of rolling up the scroll he held in his hands, and looked up at his boss. The Great Lord Enma -- the fearsome, wrathful ruler of Japanese Hell whose final word could sentence an unfortunate soul to eons of unceasing, indescribable tortures -- was never less imposing than at the end of a long workday when he was slumped in his seat, his official robes wrinkled and spattered with ink and his bulky frame drooping heavily over his desk. The last of the deceased on their afternoon schedule had just been dragged off screaming, begging to no avail to be spared the agonies of the Hell of Boiling Excrement, and Lord Enma had propped his bearded chin on one great fist and was studying Hoozuki with a morose, downcast air. 

If this petulant expression was any indication that the Great Lord was starting in on one of his _moods_ , then Hoozuki was even more glad of the prospect of being out of the office for a while.

'With the growth of Western influences in the mundane world, it is imperative that we here in Japanese Hell remain abreast of current trends.' Hoozuki finished rolling up the scroll and handed it to the bespectacled minion assigned to filing duty that day, then waved the lesser demon away without a second glance. 'It would not do for us to be understaffed in key areas that have a potential for real expansion.'

'If you say so.' Lord Enma picked up one of his unused ink brushes, rolling it between his palms. 'And you think this fellow might have some ideas for us? I don't think I've heard of him myself.'

'His remit is somewhat beyond the usual scope of our Western counterparts,' Hoozuki said. 'It is a much more...I suppose one would call it a _freelance_ arrangement.' The word _freelance_ had been borrowed from the English; it suited the situation better than the alternative in their native tongue. Now that the mundane world had been opened to the West, Hoozuki suspected that more and more foreign words would find their way down to Japanese Hell as well. All the more reason to expand his cultural horizons.

Lord Enma twirled the brush, trying to spin it through his thick, clumsy fingers. 'Free-lance?' he repeated, as if testing the sound of the word.

'Individual contracts between a human and a demon. The demon agrees to fulfil the human's desires on earth in exchange for a proprietary and exclusive claim to human's soul at the end of the accorded lifespan.' There were three more scrolls tucked under Hoozuki's arm, waiting for him to affix his seal to them. He really did not have time to waste explaining Western Hell's more unorthodox business structures to his boss. 'It is a purely transactional agreement: the soul itself is consumed in its entirety, so no standard recordkeeping procedures appear to be followed. Very little accountability or follow-up is required for archival purposes, apart from the contract itself.' Predictably, Lord Enma's eyes were starting to glaze over, so Hoozuki decided to summarise. 'What they catch, they keep.'

'Sounds exciting.' Lord Enma did not sound excited. 'But it also sounds like a lot of work.'

Hoozuki shrugged, a simple and elegant movement of his shoulders that he'd seen some of his underlings unsuccessfully attempting to copy when they thought that he wasn't looking. 'Having one's most promising employees out on special assignment all the time does seem terribly inefficient from our perspective,' he said, 'but it is evident that in European Hell they find that the benefits outweigh the disproportionate expenditure of demonpower.'

'European Hell has always spent more of their budget and resources on going after individual humans -- it's just the way they operate.' Lord Enma resumed his moody twirling of his brush. 'It doesn't really seem worthwhile, though. Why spend all that time and effort on one particular human who would probably end up in your hands anyway?'

'That sort of personalized service is a very Western approach, I believe,' Hoozuki replied. 'Or perhaps they feel that the right human may be capable of delivering other humans into their hands more expediently -- though I doubt that they have any sort of artificial quota system in place.' It was something he'd meant to look into more closely, but secondhand information was only so accurate. The whole reason for his business trip, after all, was to acquire a more personal account of the process. 'Regardless, this business model of encouraging initiative and drive through independent demonic competition may have implementation aspects that would be beneficial for our more junior tormentors.'

Lord Enma sighed gustily, and tipped his head back so that he could balance his brush on the top of his upper lip. 'All this talk of models and quotas and implementation aspects gives me a headache.'

'I am sorry to hear that, my lord.' Even with the scrolls under one arm, Hoozuki still had one hand free -- and he took the opportunity to produce his kanabo, hefting the massive spiked iron club over his shoulder with ready ease. 'Shall I provide an alternative source of pain to take your mind off the headache?'

Lord Enma startled at the sight of the club, the brush falling off his lip to clatter onto his desk, and he let out a burst of nervous laughter. 'No, no, no, that's quite all right, Hoozuki-kun!' he exclaimed, waving his hands. 'You...you should finish getting ready for your trip!'

Hoozuki paused, pretending to consider the matter. The few remaining minions in the great hall, from the spear- and whip-wielding guards at the doors to the humble floor-moppers cleaning up the stray bloodstains from the afternoon's session, were doing their best to look as invested in their work as possible, lest the supreme overlord of the infernal bureaucracy turn his attention to _them_ next. Lord Enma had pasted a smile on his face, though anyone with half an eye could see the cold sweat starting to bead on his brow.

After a moment, Hoozuki shifted his posture, tucking the scrolls more firmly under his arm. 'Very well,' he said, with a bow just deep enough to keep the scrolls from slipping loose -- which was not nearly deep enough to be perfectly respectful to a Great Lord of Hell. 'If you will excuse me.'

As he turned to leave through the hall's side door, he thought that he heard Lord Enma sigh with relief. 

The feeling was mutual. 

He had perhaps been a little harsh on his boss, but even a demon's patience for the foibles of his superiors had its limits. And with the prospect of a more civilised and intelligent conversation in his near future, he intended to ensure that Lord Enma would think twice before inventing some feeble excuse to try to keep him around to clean up someone else's mess.

* * *

On the day of their foreign visitor's arrival, Ciel took rather more care than usual over his morning toilette. He ordered Sebastian to lay out one of his newer suits of clothing, and turned down the first pair of shoes presented to him because they were not polished precisely to his satisfaction. It was one thing to entertain human guests, where he knew the social protocols well enough to determine at a glance where he ranked in the hierarchy of any public or private gathering, but it was quite another thing to knowingly meet someone who stood entirely outside the mortal order of precedence. However, this was Phantomhive Manor, and as its master his authority within its walls was absolute. In both dress and demeanour, he would give no one a reason to question him or his position.

Their visitor would be arriving around three in the afternoon, well within the proper calling hours for personal business. Sebastian had requested permission to use one of the smaller drawing rooms for their meeting, but Ciel had countered the offer with one of his own. 'If your acquaintance has taken the trouble to come all this way to see you,' he said, 'you may as well make him as comfortable as possible while he is here. The library should do well enough.' 

The look of surprise on Sebastian's face amused him, especially because it vanished into the demon's usual bland pleasantness as quickly as it had appeared.

At luncheon, Ciel ate a little more than usual, curiosity whetting his appetite. Sebastian disappeared as soon as the dishes were cleared in order to take care of whatever last-minute preparations he had in mind -- and presumably to warn the rest of the household staff that their presence most emphatically would _not_ be required until dinnertime. Having left the table, Ciel retreated to his study, where he had set aside some Funtom Corporation correspondence to look over while Sebastian entertained his guest. Yet as the appointed hour drew near, he found himself shuffling through the letters and papers without actually looking at them, as he kept one ear pricked for any sound of movement outside.

At two minutes to three, he decided that perhaps it would be a good idea to stand up and stretch his legs before settling back down to work.

At one minute to three, he was out on the uppermost landing of the manor's main staircase, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he peered down into the open foyer.

At three o'clock, the great clock in the hall began to chime. And no sooner had it struck for the third time than the front door bell rang -- adding a fourth, unnatural chime to the hour.

From his vantage point, Ciel watched Sebastian glide across the floor to answer the door. As the demon butler opened it, Ciel quietly moved a few steps down the staircase, one hand on the bannister and the other tucked behind his back to improve his posture, as he waited to see who (or _what_ ) he had invited into his home.

Their visitor was an identical height to Sebastian, with similarly dark hair and pale skin and almost the same lean, elegant figure. He was dressed in a foreign fashion, wearing what looked like a single long black garment, some sort of robe that was cut much closer to his body than any of the flowing, full-sleeved outfits that Ciel had seen Lau or another of his Oriental associates wearing. It was trimmed with crimson at the edges and held closed at the waist by a wide belt of the same bright red hue as its trim. Over the robe, he wore a long and wide-sleeved dark grey coat cut along the same simple, straight lines. His only apparent concession to Western fashion was a black silk top hat, somewhat out of place with the rest of his dress but ordinary enough in itself to be unremarkable. But then he took off the hat, and Ciel's pulse quickened when he saw what it had concealed -- a single small horn, high on the forehead, right at the parting of his hair. 

Whatever Sebastian's true form might be, he could pass for human when he chose to do so. Until a moment ago, Ciel had thought that their visitor was much the same, but one glimpse of that horn was enough to destroy that particular illusion. This was another demon, plain and simple...and the unusual top hat was the bare minimum of effort needed to hide that fact from human eyes. 

Ever courteous, Sebastian held out his hand to take their visitor's hat. But just as the Japanese demon was about to hand it over, he turned his head, looking up the manor's long staircase, and made direct eye contact with Ciel.

 _His concern is entirely with the deceased_ , Sebastian had said. Not so different from the Grim Reapers, then, who reviewed the memories of the dying to weigh the value of their lives. But this demon did not seem like any of the Reapers that Ciel had had the misfortune to meet in the past. Whereas Grell Sutcliffe and the rest of that lot had next to no interest in what happened to the souls they had reaped once their actual work was done, some dark and piercing glimmer in the demon's eyes told Ciel that it had a _very_ great interest in those souls, as well as in the records of their short, pitiful existence. It wasn't a predatory or greedy look; it didn't seem to want Ciel's soul for itself, or to want to harm him in any way. But its gaze did have an intent, appraising air to it, like that of a jeweller examining a cut gem's facets and flaws -- or of a natural scientist peering at a chloroformed insect pinned to a labelled card.

Ciel had been subject to worse personal inspections in his life, but he did not want to prolong this one. And yet the rules of polite society demanded a proper introduction, so he did not hesitate as he walked down the rest of the side staircase to the central landing, and planted himself squarely at the top of the stairs to look down upon their guest from his superior height. He said nothing, waiting for his butler to act.

With perfect timing, Sebastian swept forward to stand between his master and their guest, completing their tableau as if he had been waiting for his cue all along. 'My lord, please allow me to introduce Lord Hoozuki, a senior Japanese diplomat with whom I have the great honour to be acquainted.' To his surprise, Ciel could have sworn that there was actually a modicum of real respect beneath Sebastian's obsequious turn of phrase. 'Lord Hoozuki, this is my young master, the Earl Phantomhive.'

'It is indeed a privilege to make your acquaintance, my lord.' Lord Hoozuki bowed deeply to Ciel, and Ciel gave a slightly stiff bow of his own in reply. 'But you flatter me, sir,' he said to Sebastian, with a less formal but equally courteous nod. 'I am a mere functionary of my Lord Enma's court, nothing so exalted as a senior diplomat. And the honour is entirely mine, to be permitted to intrude on your valuable time at such regrettably short notice.'

'Ah, but it is far from an intrusion, my lord.' Sebastian's smile was the picture of modesty. 'Had I let the rare opportunity of your visit to England pass me by, I could never have forgiven myself. I can only hope to benefit from your kind consideration in coming here today.'

'Lord Hoozuki,' Ciel said flatly, hoping to forestall the other's reply. He had a sudden feeling that the two of them could go on like this for days, belittling themselves with an elaborate humility that was more obnoxious than the utmost smug superiority. It was tiresome enough when Sebastian did it for his own amusement; the last thing he wanted was to have to stand around and watch a pair of demons make a _competition_ out of it. 'I regret that I must take my leave when we have only just been introduced, but if you will excuse me, there are pressing business matters I must attend to. Please allow Sebastian to extend every courtesy of my estate's hospitality to you in my absence.' It was the sort of pat speech he had memorised long ago in order to make his escape on occasions like this. 

If Lord Hoozuki saw through the polite fiction, he himself was too polite to say so. He bent his head in understanding. 'Of course,' he said. 'I would not wish to detain your lordship. I thank you for your time, and your hospitality.'

'If you will follow me, my lord,' Sebastian said, addressing Hoozuki once more, 'I will show you to the library.'

With a butler's true efficiency, Sebastian wasted no time in ushering his visitor out of the foyer, without a second glance up at Ciel. Which was just as well, because it gave Ciel a moment to collect his wits, standing alone at the top of the stairs. Or at least, he had thought that he was alone -- only to nearly jump out of his skin when a familiar voice, quite close behind him, murmured:

'Lord Enma's court...a rare opportunity indeed.'

Caught by surprise, Ciel turned sharply on his heel. 'Tanaka?' he said, blinking in confusion at the sight of his family's elderly former butler standing on the landing with him. 'Do you know of this Lord Hoozuki?' 

It was all too easy to forget that Tanaka was around these days. More often than not, he sat or stood silent and unnoticed in the background of whatever madness was plaguing the manor at any given time, sipping a cup of Japanese tea and smiling at everything in his gentle, vacant sort of way. Considering everything that the old man had been through, Ciel was more than willing to let the responsibilities of the position of Phantomhive butler rest on Sebastian's inhuman shoulders, no matter how faithfully Tanaka had served his parents in the past. But Tanaka had his own priorities still, if the clear-eyed, thoughtful look he had fixed on the foyer below was anything to go by. Sebastian and Lord Hoozuki might have vanished into the library, but Tanaka's watchfulness made Ciel feel as if he were being guarded against their malignant presence...or whatever remnants of it had lingered beyond their departure.

To Ciel's question, Tanaka shook his head. 'No, young master,' he said, without turning his gaze from the empty front hall. 'But if he serves Lord Enma, I expect that I will see him again someday, soon enough.'

 _His concern is entirely with the deceased._ Sebastian had been so close-lipped about their visitor that Ciel had not bothered to press him for particulars. Why try to wring blood from a stone? But with Tanaka here in front of him -- Japanese by birth, in spite of his long years of service in England -- there was perhaps no better chance to learn more about their foreign visitor. 'Who is Lord Enma?' he asked.

'One of the great lords of the underworld,' Tanaka said. Quiet and matter of fact, as if it were commonplace to speak of such things. 'He who judges the dead and sentences them to their rightful place in the afterlife, to whatever Hell awaits them and their sins. Beyond the shores of the Sanzu River....' An odd, dreamy look crossed his face, the moment of lucidity starting to slip away from him as he seemed to retreat into his own private world once more. ' _This world is only a resting-place._ '

Ciel pressed his lips together, trying to quell the unsettled feeling in his stomach. A member of Lord Enma's court. A demon responsible for judging the sins of the dead. Small wonder, then, that Lord Hoozuki had looked upon him with such professional interest. Ciel's own soul was spoken for, of course...but what might such a creature want with Sebastian? 

The hall clock had ticked several minutes past the hour, but Ciel remained where he was. Soon, he would have to go back to his papers, and attempt to keep his mind on his work as he waited for the appointed hour to end. Soon, the meeting would be over, and their strange foreign visitor would be gone. Soon, he would corner Sebastian, and this time he would demand answers to his questions. Soon. 

But not yet.

* * *

In preparation for his guest's arrival, Sebastian had laid a fire in the library's great fireplace and set two high-backed armchairs right up on the edge of the hearth, so close to the blaze that one could feel the subtle changes in air temperature with each flicker of flame. The tea table that separated the chairs held a small feast of cakes and scones, tartlets and finger sandwiches, everything that a proper afternoon tea should provide. 

'Would you care for black or green tea, my lord?' Sebastian asked, once Hoozuki had settled into one of the chairs and arranged his robes to his satisfaction. 

Hoozuki contemplated the options. 'As we are in England,' he said, 'black tea would seem the most appropriate choice.'

'Of course.' Sebastian reached for the teapot -- with just the two of them present, there was no need for the little servile pretences of boiling the water or spooning in the leaves -- and began to pour a perfectly brewed cup for his guest. He nodded to a plate of neatly arranged little cakes, each topped with a dusting of sugar and a candied cherry. 'My young master has something of a sweet tooth, and these cakes are a particular favourite of his. I hope they will be to your liking as well.'

'I look forward to enjoying them.' Hoozuki took the cup and saucer that Sebastian held out to him, and inclined his own head towards the empty chair opposite. 'Please, do be seated. I am hardly worth the trouble of being waited upon.' 

Sebastian smiled. 'If your lordship permits the liberty,' he said, though he was already pouring a cup for himself. With a flick of his coattails, he took his seat, and lifted his teacup in a small salute. 'To your health, my lord Hoozuki.'

Hoozuki mirrored the polite gesture. 'And yours, Sebastian-san.' 

The two demons sat in silence for a long moment, letting the warmth of the flames play over them as they sipped the strong brew. These initial niceties, guest and host, were of course a part of the necessary aesthetics. It would not be the done thing to lower the overall tone of their meeting by moving immediately into talk of business, as if they were a pair of seedy merchants haggling over the price of a bolt of irregular silk or a few pounds of adulterated tea leaves. There was a time and a place to begin -- and once Hoozuki had consumed slightly more than half of the contents of his cup, and Sebastian had promptly refilled it, the clink of the teapot being returned to its trivet seemed to herald Sebastian's next words.

'You will forgive me, I hope, if I speak plainly,' he said, steepling his hands and tapping his gloved fingertips together. 'I never imagined that the chief of staff of Japanese Hell -- he who stands at the right hand of the dread Lord Enma himself -- would go so far out of his way to call upon one so subordinate in the infernal hierarchy.' The coy smile he gave to Hoozuki would have made Ciel grind his teeth in irritation. 'I cannot think of what I might have done to deserve such rare consideration.'

Hoozuki took another sip of his tea, and replaced the cup on its saucer. 'Word of your accomplishments has reached even our once-isolated shores,' he replied. 'With the mortal part of my world opening to the West once again, I felt it necessary to reacquaint myself with customs that my associates and I have not found it necessary to contemplate for quite some time.'

Sebastian raised one eyebrow in a delicately concerned arch. 'I would have thought that you would seek out your high-ranking European counterparts first, before thinking to speak with me,' he said. 'I have very little to do with them, as I am sure you know.'

'My counterparts?' Hoozuki shook his head. 'Even in earlier days, I found their perspectives to be sadly _limited_. Very few of them have poured the boiling oil or stoked the great cauldron fires themselves, as I once did. Those humble foundations, the day-to-day routine of an ordinary torturer, made me who I am today. Given the choice of speaking to one who delegates decisions from behind a desk, or seeking the opinions of someone with more sound, practical experience....' One corner of his mouth twitched, the shadow of an answering smile. 'It is hardly a choice at all.'

No demon is truly immune to flattery, and Sebastian all but purred at the compliment, even as he bowed his head demurely in response. 'Then I will strive, my lord Hoozuki, to answer all of your questions to your utmost satisfaction.'

'I appreciate your willingness in this matter.' Hoozuki lifted his teacup again, though this time he paused before raising it to his lips. 'For must I admit to a certain amount of curiosity as to why a demon of your exemplary calibre has taken on this... _extended contract_.' The sip he took had the air of a punctuation mark. 'If that is how one may regard it.'

The smile on Sebastian's face suddenly seemed to crystallise around the edges. 'Does it strike you as so very unusual?' he said lightly.

Hoozuki regarded him over the top of the cup. 'To us, the act of laying claim to a particular soul while its erstwhile owner is still living would be inconsistent with our standard practices,' he said. 'Some souls in our remit do feel the pains of Hell before their death, but my colleagues and I would not have courted their acquaintance specifically.' The last wisps of steam from the tea curled upwards before his eyes like incense rising from a funeral offering. 'Still less would any of us think to be bound in service to a human for the chance to obtain one particular soul for ourselves.'

Sebastian's smile did not waver. 'It is less a matter of a _particular_ soul,' he said, with another faint tap of his fingertips against each other, 'and more a matter of being particular _about_ the soul.'

It was Hoozuki's turn to raise an eyebrow. 'Indeed?'

'You have met my master, the Lord Phantomhive.' Sebastian nodded once, in the direction of the door leading out the library.

'I have.'

The smile widened, showing a hint of teeth. 'Then you may imagine that I did not accept the contract lightly.'

'I do not doubt that in the least,' Hoozuki said calmly. 'It is a unique arrangement, to be sure, but I can well imagine the possibilities it presents to one who has a trained eye and a strategic mind.' His mouth twitched again, this time with an almost conspiratorial air. 'Not to mention an inordinate tolerance for self-denial, which is rare enough amongst our kind.'

There was a beat of silence while Sebastian considered how best to respond to such an odd assessment of his own talents. 'I would hardly consider it a question of "self-denial", my lord,' he said at last, reaching for his teacup without once looking away from Hoozuki.

'Would you not?' Hoozuki's eyes glinted at that, alight with sudden interest. 'Do you not _hunger_ , then, Sebastian-san?'

Something in the intonation of the word _**hunger**_ , low and thick with the seductive force that only those of the infernal realm can wield, seemed to strike Sebastian like a physical blow. For a flash of a moment, faster than any eye could blink, the demon butler's cool and polished facade cracked just enough for Hoozuki to glimpse the _thing_ within, the monstrous being beyond any mortal's comprehension -- the howling, clawing, writhing _need_ of a predator long frustrated in pursuit of its prey, driven to the edge of madness by its single-minded desire to _rend_ and _tear_ and _devour_ in an exquisite frenzy of annihilation --

\-- and then the terrible moment passed, and Sebastian was as composed as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Only the slight rattle of teacup against saucer as he took hold of the thin china handle gave any hint that something untoward might have disturbed his serenity.

'One can be a glutton, and gorge oneself with all the finesse of pig in its swills,' he said, with a moue of distaste at the thought. He sipped his tea, rolling it through his mouth as one might savour a fine wine. 'Or one can refrain from such gross excesses, and find rare pleasure in awaiting a far more refined experience.'

Hoozuki studied him thoughtfully, with the beginnings of a frown. 'Rare pleasure?'

Sebastian made a quiet noise of agreement behind his cup as he took another sip. 'It is a rare pleasure indeed to be in the service of a master whose intelligence, discretion, and cunning allow one to labour to the fullest extent of one's capabilities. Would you not agree, my lord?' He gave Hoozuki a brilliant smile that came nowhere near his eyes. 'After all, you yourself would not be where you are today if your inherent talents had not been permitted to flourish' -- and the curve of his mouth slanted upward, thin and razor-sharp -- 'under Lord Enma's _guidance_.'

It was no trick of the light that made the room seem to darken as Sebastian's well-aimed shot found its mark. Hoozuki's expression did not change, but the air suddenly hung heavy and crackling with malevolent energy, a wave of pure hatred that rose from him like a miasma. Even the most hardened demons of Japanese Hell, seasoned veterans of the blackest depths of Avici, would have quailed in the face of Hoozuki's imminent wrath -- but then, as swiftly as it had manifested, the oppressive feeling in the air dissipated. The fire in the hearth burned as brightly as before, and chunks of still-glowing coal made soft crumbling sounds as they were consumed by the flames.

'As you rightly observe, Sebastian-san,' Hoozuki replied, 'the work itself frequently is its own reward.' Whatever hostility might have filled the space between them scarcely a moment before, it was evident that he felt no need to allow the matter to escalate further -- or at least, not beyond a certain point of decorum. 'And even when the duty is distasteful -- as it so often may be -- it behooves those of our kind to conduct ourselves with dignity, and take pride in our achievements.'

Sebastian shifted slightly in his chair, the tiniest indication that he too was taking a step back from the brink of confrontation with his Japanese guest. 'I could not agree with you more, my lord.' His gaze fell upon Hoozuki's teacup, and his smile eased back into its normal serenity. 'Will you have some more tea?'

Hoozuki considered the offer, and then held out his cup and saucer. 'Perhaps I will trouble you for another cup, and for one of those cakes you recommended to me earlier.' As the rich scent of freshly brewed Assam wafted through the room, he added, 'You mentioned that the Lord Phantomhive was fond of them. I would imagine, though, that not all of his requests for your services are quite so domestic in nature.'

'By no means.' Sebastian's deft handiwork ensured that not a single stray drop escaped the teapot's spout as he filled his guest's cup once more. 'But I would not wish to bore you with the details of my duties here.'

'On the contrary, Sebastian-san,' Hoozuki said, as he leaned back in his chair, 'those details would not bore me in the slightest.' The glimmer of interest had returned to his eyes, though this time it was closer to that same cool, analytical look that had made Ciel feel like a scientific specimen pinned under glass. 'In fact, if you were to enlighten me on the matter, I would encourage you to leave nothing out.'

The look that the two demons shared in that moment was one of perfect understanding -- so perfect that one could almost smell the brimstone searing the flesh of the damned.

* * *

'Well? How did it go?'

Sebastian paused in the act of closing the study door. 'My lord?' His expression was innocence itself.

Ciel, to his credit, refrained from throwing his hand-painted porcelain teacup at his butler's head. 'Your meeting,' he said. 'Was Lord Hoozuki satisfied with the results of his enquiry?'

'I believe so, my lord,' Sebastian said. His smile was unusually cheerful; not false or exaggerated, but certainly more animated than Ciel was accustomed to seeing when no one was actively being slaughtered on his account. 'It was a most stimulating conversation. He also asked me to present his compliments once again for your lordship's hospitality this afternoon, and to inform you that he wishes you well in your future endeavours.'

'How unfortunate that one can hardly display a calling card from a dignitary of Japanese Hell on the table in the hall,' Ciel said, with a thin smile of his own. 'At any rate, he did not overstay his welcome, which is more than might be said for most of our visitors.'

If Sebastian was surprised that his master had divined Lord Hoozuki's true nature, he gave no outward indication of it. 'Lord Hoozuki is a consummate professional,' he replied. 'And if his willingness to embrace new methods of thinking and potential business opportunities is any reflection of the mindset of his fellow countrymen, you would be well placed to consider the opportunities that the Japanese markets may provide for your enterprises, my lord.'

' _As below, so above?_ Perhaps.' Ciel peered into his teacup, where a few soggy tea leaves clung to the dregs. 'Though as it concerns our Far Eastern operations, I would have to speak with Lau about that.'

'Speak with me about what?' 

Ciel blinked, caught off-guard by the familiar voice that drifted in through the partly open door. No sooner had Sebastian moved to open it fully than Lau himself sailed into the room with Ran-Mao in tow. The briefest flash of glasses and the flutter of a ruffled white cap at the edge of the doorframe told Ciel that Mey-Rin must have been the one to show their newest visitors up to his study...which doubtless would not sit well with Sebastian, but it was too late for Ciel to do anything about it now. In front of Lau, at least, he would not be required to weigh in on any matter of below-stairs squabbling. 

'Your timing is impeccable, Lau,' was all that he said, affecting an air of bored half-interest. 'To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?'

Lau did not respond to Ciel's unveiled sarcasm. He seemed to be in an odd huff of his own. 'I must say, Milord Phantomhive, that I don't think much of some of your acquaintances.' He sank onto his preferred chaise, drawing Ran-Mao into his lap as he reclined. 'I was positively insulted by that _riben guizi_ who was leaving your grounds as I arrived.'

' _Ri-ben_ what?' Ciel echoed, with a furrowed brow. It was peculiar to see Lau so ruffled about anything. He seemed to be holding Ran-Mao even closer than usual, wrapping his arms around her like an anxious child clinging to a beloved stuffed toy.

Ever helpful, Sebastian cleared his throat discreetly. 'One possible translation from the Chinese, my lord, would be _Japanese devil_ ,' he said. 'A common pejorative term.'

'Ah.' Ciel had to feign a final sip from his almost entirely empty teacup in order to conceal a knowing smile. 'How exactly did he insult you, Lau?'

'I hardly care to say.' Lau stood on his dignity for approximately three seconds. 'But in a few words, it involved a _gross_ insinuation that I would have a very unpleasant time of it in the, er, afterlife. As if he knew anything about me!'

Ciel pressed his lips together for a second to stop himself from making matters worse by laughing. 'Did he really,' he said evenly. 'Well, you needn't concern yourself with him -- his was a purely social call, and his duties are well outside our own particular spheres of interest.' He glanced at Sebastian, who naturally had kept a straight face throughout as well, and waved a hand in command. 'Have some tea.'

As Lau huffed again, and accepted a conciliatory cup of tea from the ever-helpful Phantomhive butler, Ciel felt a momentary pang of regret that he had not exchanged more than the most perfunctory of greetings with Lord Hoozuki himself. If the Japanese demon could sum up a creature like Lau so readily at first glance, what else might Ciel have been able to learn from him? Considering his circumstances, he had no real desire to court the continued attentions of yet _another_ high-flying denizen of the underworld...but all other things being equal, it was a bit of a shame that he had not been able to have a greater part in that aforementioned stimulating conversation.

* * *

'Well? How did it go?'

Hoozuki blinked, turning to look at the white-robed figure sauntering up to him. Perhaps it had been too much to ask that his first day back would go smoothly from start to finish. In making his rounds following his trip to the human world, he had saved Mortal Hell for last, hoping to check in with Okou and present her with the usual souvenir gifts before clocking off for the day. But scarcely a moment after had he sent Okou's assistant to summon her for a quick standing meeting outside the main brothel, he was greeted with the unanticipated (and wholly unwelcome) sight of Hakutaku strolling towards him, a sly leer pasted on his face.

'To what precisely are you referring?' he said, reluctant to make the inevitable verbal sparring fall into its too-familiar patterns right from the outset.

Hakutaku rolled his eyes. 'Your trip to the mortal world,' he said, pointing upwards as if Hoozuki had forgotten where he'd been. 'To _Yīngguó_ , I believe they call it these days?'

'Is that where you were, Hoozuki-sama?' With a soft footfall and a rustle of kimono, Okou appeared in the brothel doorway. 'I'd heard that you were travelling, but to go so far away....'

'That was my destination, yes.' Hoozuki bowed to Okou in greeting, which she returned with her usual propriety. He looked back at Hakutaku, one eyebrow raised. 'How did you happen to hear about it?'

'I have my informants.' Hakutaku slipped his hands into his sleeves and leaned against the side of the building, as if he intended to settle into the conversation for the long haul. 'So what were you doing there? I can't imagine that you were flouncing around there on any kind of official business -- those Western demons would probably think you were some sort of thick-witted country bumpkin who got lost on his way to the next village over.'

'I was renewing an old professional acquaintanceship,' Hoozuki said calmly. 'It may not be immediately profitable for _official business_ , as you put it, but the opportunity presented itself, and so I took it.'

'It wasn't too cold and rainy there, was it?' Okou asked, with a solicitously concerned half-frown. 'I've heard that it can be very wet in _Eikoku_. I would hate to think of you catching a chill, Hoozuki-sama.'

'As a matter of fact, the weather was pleasant enough there at the time -- though I appreciate your concern for my well being, Okou-san.' Hoozuki reached into the depths of his own sleeve, and drew out a small box wrapped in pink ribbon. 'I was able to purchase a few souvenirs during my travels, and I hope that you will accept this from me, with my compliments.'

Okou smiled. 'Oh, Hoozuki-sama, you're too kind,' she said as she took the box. The snakes belted around her waist craned forward to look at the gift, examining the embossed logo of a silhouetted cat adorned with a tiny crown. 'I almost hate to open it -- the box is so pretty on its own.'

'They are confections made by a highly regarded company known as Funtom,' Hoozuki said, nodding to the box. 'I recommend consuming them with tea, as one would with our own sweets.'

Hakutaku was starting to pout, clearly jealous of the attention that Okou was paying to her boss instead of him. 'I hope you brought enough back for everyone to share.'

Without missing a beat, Hoozuki reached into his sleeve again and produced an almost identical box, this one wrapped with a white-and-black-striped ribbon. 'Actually, I thought of you in particular when I came across this,' he said, holding the box out to Hakutaku. 'I am told it is a very special kind of Funtom confection, well suited to the Chinese palate.'

Hakutaku gave him a suspicious look. 'You're too kind,' he said flatly. 'But I'm not going to eat anything _you've_ picked out.'

'Wouldn't you at least try one, Hakutaku-sama?' Okou said. 'There couldn't be anything bad about it, if Hoozuki-sama brought it back all this way from _Eikoku_.'

In spite of himself, Hakutaku wavered. Gingerly, he took the box, weighing it in his hands as if it contained an explosive device. 'Whatever it is, I'm not going to hang onto it if I don't like it, just to keep from hurting your precious feelings.'

'My feelings, such as they are, have never been your primary concern,' Hoozuki said. As Hakutaku made a scornful noise with his tongue at the back of his teeth, he turned back to Okou. 'All has been well here otherwise?'

Okou nodded. 'No problems or concerns that require your attention, Hoozuki-sama,' she said. 'I have some papers for you to review and seal, but nothing urgent or pressing. And you must be tired after such a long day back -- I can have everything ready for you first thing in the morning.'

Hoozuki's approving nod brightened Okou's face as much as it darkened Hakutaku's. 'Then if you will both excuse me,' he said, 'I have a few more errands I must attend to before the end of the day. I do hope that you both enjoy the products of my recent travels.'

As he moved off, Okou held up her box to admire the ribbon from a different angle, while Hakutaku quickly plucked the ribbon off his own box and lifted the lid. He peered down at its contents: several neat rows of some sort of bar candy nestled in little paper cups. Each piece of the candy was so thickly coated in a layer of dark chocolate that the box gave off a heady aroma, as thick and musky and bittersweet as an Oriental perfume. 

'Huh,' he said. He sniffed at the chocolates, coughing a little at their heavy, rich scent. 'They look normal enough. Kind of fancy, even.' He picked one up between thumb and forefinger, trying to get a good grip on the sleek chocolate coating. 'Might as well try it, I suppose.'

Rather than put the whole piece of chocolate in his mouth, he bit down on the end, and gave a little grunt of surprise as his teeth sank through the firm chocolate coating into a soft, gummy interior. But no sooner had he fully bitten off the piece and started to chew it than his eyes flew wide open, and he clapped a hand to his mouth. The box of chocolates slipped from his other hand and hit the ground, scattering its contents everywhere, as Hakutaku bent nearly double in a fit of coughing and spitting and gagging, all but clawing at his tongue to get the taste of the Funtom Corporation's special confection out of his mouth.

'Hakutaku-sama? What's the matter?' Okou moved over to him, trying ineffectually to pat him on the back. 'Did it go down the wrong way?'

Hakutaku lifted his head, eyes streaming with involuntary tears as he glared murderously at the dark-robed demon walking away from them, by that point halfway down the street. ' _Chineethe pal--'te_....' he spluttered, his chocolate-stained tongue lolling out of his mouth. 'Tha' _bast'rd_ \-- it'th _RAW OPIUM!'_

And as the echo of Hakutaku's pained cry rang out through the busy streets of Mortal Hell, Hoozuki tucked his own hands into his sleeves, and allowed himself the thinnest of knife-like smiles.

All in all...a most successful trip.

**Author's Note:**

> A few cultural comments --
> 
> \- Hoozuki's initial letter to Sebastian is enclosed in a [koden envelope](https://www.flickr.com/photos/chriki/3026929641), which is used for money gifts of condolence at Japanese funerals. (In an interesting cultural note, Hoozuki's obi also has koden-style cords tied around it, akin to an obi-jime.) Much like the black-bordered mourning notepaper and jet-black sealing wax of Ciel's time, its primary use is for the deceased.  
> \- That fourth chime made by the Phantomhive Manor doorbell is, of course, the unlucky four, meaning _death_.  
>  \- It's hard to know the extent of Tanaka's religiosity, but I certainly believe that he'd know who Enma is, and that he expects to spend a fair amount of time in Japanese Hell for his sins in life. Nothing on the order of Ciel's fate, and yet it wouldn't be a picnic on the Sanzu River, either.  
> \- I personally doubt that the Funtom Corporation smuggles its opium as chocolate-covered confections, but who's to say that Sebastian and Hoozuki couldn't have put their heads together and dreamed up a special limited-edition omiyage just for such an occasion?
> 
> Many thanks to the F_FA nonnies for their encouragement and their patience!


End file.
